I Cannot Go, Neither Would I Want To
by HoodedSpellcaster
Summary: Once upon a time in Paris Teddy falls asleep, Louis likes poetry, and a thunderstorm rages./ Post-Hogwarts Next-Gen, slight Teddy/Louis with a passing mention of Tedoire.


**I Cannot Go; Neither Would I Want To**

A flash comes first, only to be followed by a crack of thunder. I knew the storm was coming, I mutter silently, trudging up the flights of stairs in soaked clothes. In my defense, the dark clouds had been hanging on the sky since morning and the rain could, or could not, have started at any time.

I march inside the spacious penthouse the moment the door is opened, leaving traces of dirt everywhere I step.

Louis sighs at the sight. "Make yourself at home, Teddy." I can hear the not so subtle hint of sarcasm in his voice when he closes the door.

I kick my boots off when he casts a scouring charm. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that," I say.

He simply waves me off. "There are towels in the closet and–"

"Hey, I already know where everything is," I say, turning back to ruffle his hair. "Go read a book or something. I need to take a shower."

"I'll be in the living room. There's tea in the kettle, if you want some."

The shower was a good idea, and even though the dry, borrowed clothes feel strange against my damp skin they are still far more pleasant than my drenched ones. The flannel pants hang low on my hips and the v-neck t-shirt makes me look less rebellious than my old leather jacket does. I wipe my face with a towel. A simple charm would do, but I'm not overly fond of using magic for such simple tasks as drying myself. So, I let my hair stay wet and the droplets trickle down the back of my neck and cool down.

" _The night is darkening round me,_

 _The wild winds coldly blow;_

 _But a tyrant spell has bound me,_

 _And I cannot, cannot go."_

I stand close enough to the window to feel the cold of the November air. It's chilly and the hair on my arms is already sticking up like the scruff of an angered cat, but I refuse to move away from the embrasure. The raindrops stain the glass, making the sharp, colorful lights seem so blurred. The rain strums a beat against the rooftop, an erratic rhythm accompanied by the loud roars of thunder once in a while. I wish for snow to come early this year.

I don't find the sound of rain completely unpleasant. Not as much as I find the feeling of being trapped inside four walls, at least. I've always been more of a free spirit, I'm always moving. Always going somewhere. Always leaving people behind. Never staying longer than necessary.

But I like staying in Paris.

Louis leans on the sofa. His lips move but I can barely make out the words he's saying. He sits on the floor, cocooned inside blankets, and his knees pulled close to his face. I doubt the position is a comfortable one, but I don't hear him complain. His wand is inches away from him but he hasn't blocked out the sound of the storm. It makes him feel at home here, he says. The sound of water falling down from the sky reminds him of the waves coming crashing to the shore. But of course la Seine can't compare to the vicious sea, not even when the whole Paris is under a storm. This place isn't the Shell Cottage.

" _The giant trees are bending_

 _Their bare boughs weighed with snow;_

 _The storm is fast descending,_

 _And yet I cannot go."_

I smirk when Louis quirks his eyebrow and glances my way before returning to his book. He's reading aloud, the nerdy Ravenclaw he is. Some poetry collection this time, from his library I bet. The white walls are covered in books. There seem to be more every time I visit.

The thunder cracks over the house. The rain doesn't seem close to stopping any time soon.

Louis hasn't cut his hair since the last time I saw him. He pushes the wisps of hair away from his face, looking mildly irritated when they fall right back to hide his eyes. What's with the Weasley-Delacours and their abnormally effeminate hair anyway? And he's almost as tall as I am – which should be illegal since both James and Hugo have both grown taller than me and I know it sounds very petty but I definitely want to stay taller than Louis.

" _Clouds beyond clouds above me,_

 _Wastes beyond wastes below;_

 _But nothing drear can move me;_

 _I will not, cannot go."_

I ditch the towel and make my way to Louis. I plop down ungracefully next to him, grinning as I steal the blankets, just to wrap them around the both of us. I snuggle closer and my arm makes its way around his waist. Now this is where I like to be. I press my face on the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent of salty sea, wind, and old parchment.

"Teddy." His voice neutral, but the twinkling in his eyes gives away he likes the intimacy. "You're freezing."

I snicker at that, caressing his ankle with my toes. "I know," I drawl, feeling especially accomplished when he shivers. "Warm me up."

Louis lets out a small sigh, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. "Maybe that's not a good idea," he says with a grin. "Do you want anything to eat?" he asks. "There's takeout in the fridge."

"Mmm," I hum, nibbling Louis' shoulder. "I'd rather eat you."

"Teddy!" Louis shouts, scandalized, and hits me straight on my head with the book. Did you think that poetry is light reading? Well, it's not. "Remember whose sister you're dating!"

"Aww, can't I have you both?" I joke, laughing even harder when Louis glares at me with a bitch face. "Sorry, sorry!" I laugh, rubbing my head. "No, I'm not hungry."

Even after my slightly inappropriate comment, Louis doesn't move away when I lean on him. He just adjusts the blankets and opens the book again.

"Hey, can you read that last poem again?" I ask, nudging his knee lightly. "The one you read just a while ago?"

"You didn't listen the first time I read it, did you?" he asks softly. I simply shrug, pressing my head on his shoulder. I hear him sigh but the sound of pages turning makes me smile. "Okay, here we go," he says. _"The night is darkening round me…"_

And I let his voice lull me to sleep.

* * *

 **QLFC Finals Round 1 - Pairing Diversity**

Character: Teddy Lupin

Secondary: Louis Weasley

OPTIONAL PROMPTS:

2\. (setting) Paris

9\. (atmosphere) weathe -mixer light-thunderstorm

13\. (poem) 'The Night Is Darkening Round Me' by Emily Bronte

Special thanks to Jordi for betaing :)


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